Father shins

 Hi father from beyond
skin falling from shins
sun shining in eventful 
Work a day less

Let the cliche vex me

For when my hair falls and greys
I can no longer see the way
hand of god to slap me down

Journeys across the sea
smiles and exchange
our bodies sick
Just a few hours longer

Walking with your weak heart
next to the river, next to the flow
Kidneys not cleaning it
action in a short life

a rushed one
One day less of work
empty hands
What urges you out of bed father

I can still see you
Curtains open sun shinging in
your innocence is a fine dust
gold when we collect it

Your mistakes clumsy
Not so premeditated
So no sickness within
Just a little flaky on the skin of it

You said whatever it takes
we share grins
what part of you am I
Do I build it all up
or knock it down

The lakes of the future father
blue and green feeding our human race
What am I inside of them
With the big hand of god
swatting at our petrie dish

Still here in this rugged world
somewhere in the aura
present with us
tragedy or miracle